The art of war. An unforeseen factor

Now let's check my Jedi memory. Well, that's what we have his. Meditations, some ideas about politics (shit, shit) thanks to teacher Artaud, I know a little about local technology — nothing outstanding, just the general education level of the Temple, that is, I won't design a yacht, but I should be able to fix local analogues of Zhiguli with a tambourine and pliers. I know about FAFAG wars because the mentors said something there a long time ago, but it flew into one ear and flew out the other.

That's basically it.

Oh, right, I also know that the war will last three years, and then the Emperor will issue the sixty-sixth emergency order, and all the Jedi will have fun... fucking...

Okay, calm down. Put aside the panic. Think about what you're going to do, Jedi, and how you're going to survive in all this guano. As one of our teachers used to say: "Divide the problem into its components, and solve them one at a time. Perhaps by solving some of them, you will turn other parts to your advantage. Well, or you'll find new problems, as long as you're lucky." I hope to be lucky.

Let's consider possible options for my actions.

The first option. Let's call it "Laziness". We don't do anything, we follow the canon, as a result — either I die in the war, or — order sixty-six. Definitely not.

The second option. "The Prophet." Running around shouting "I know everything, Sith Chancellor." It's tempting, but who's going to believe me right away? Plus, they can get slapped in the process — don't go to a fortune teller. I read somewhere that Sidious has almost a third of the criminal world of the galaxy in his pocket and he is tightly tied to the financial system, like his teacher crushed his Banking Clan, and the student, accordingly, did not hesitate to inherit. And what's stopping Palpatine from announcing order sixty-six right now, when a bunch of clones are on Coruscant? It's nothing. Moreover, in the canon, four Jedi masters came to arrest him, including Kit Fisto and Mace Windu himself. Yes, not romantics who have rusted in the peaceful air, but seasoned by the three-year war, seasoned wolves, if they managed to lose their shape somewhere, it was only in their dreams of a happy old age. And Sidious almost crushed them all. And later, even Yoda couldn't handle him alone. Either Palpatine is strong, or the Jedi have softened over the millennia since the Order's fighting backbone died on Ruusan. Discard it.

The third option. "Get on your feet." Escape and hide far away, preferably in Unknown Regions, for reliability. Obviously not a ride. If the Jedi don't find it, then the separatists, not the separatists, then Vader will find it and chop it into small pieces. How many Jedi are there in the galaxy right now? Well, there are definitely tens of thousands. And how many of them survived before Luke left Tatooine? A dozen pieces? Statistics, however. Or even the Vong will show up, if I live to see them. Well, how long before their invasion? It is now the twenty-second year before the Battle of Yavin, they will arrive in the twenty-first year after the battle. In total, only some forty years. Well, what the fuck do I have to enjoy in my old age? Br-R. Definitely not.

The fourth option. "Maybe we can evolve into waterfowl in a quick way?" That is, to become a Sith. Laugh at the chickens. I'm stuck... S-chaz! Just like Darth Revan's holocron, I'll find the ghost of Marky Ragnos and talk him into becoming a teacher, yeah. But Darth Sidious clearly doesn't need competitors without these tricks. After all, Bane's rule is-although he seems to have already come to the idea of his inferiority. He'll find it and finish it off with a special passion. Or Vader will strangle me. I'm not particularly attracted to Power at all — yes, it's a cool thing, but there are more interesting things in the Far, Far Away.

Damn, wherever you throw it, there's a wedge everywhere. Think, Miko, think, your head is designed for this.

As a result, I came to the following conclusions: in order not to die, you need to become a significant figure, which will be unprofitable for either the Jedi or Palpatine, after all, people from former Jedi were recruited to the same imperial Inquisitorium — people actively went there, many were transported to Biss on special prison ships. And the upcoming war will give many Jedi the opportunity to advance as commanders. We need to be one of them. Then, having gained fame, you need to enlist the support of some significant figure, preferably from the Senate (although, hand on heart, I responsibly declare that finding someone normal there is simply epic). Senator Chuchi's name flashed through my mind and disappeared. Then we have to get around the sixty-sixth order somehow. There's a special problem with this, but time is running out, I'll come up with something.

Besides, you need to improve as a Jedi. Train and train again. Naturally, I won't get to the level of the same Skywalker, not to mention Yoda and Palpatine, but... I might make a good average guy. Probably.

Slowly, a plan began to form in my head. After learning that we were going to Coruscant, which would take fifteen hours to reach, * (see footnote.— Approx. Author), I decided to take a nap and let the wounds heal. And when else will there be such an opportunity in the near future? The days ahead of me are obviously going to be very stressful.

* * *

Meanwhile, a meeting of the Jedi Council was taking place at the command post of the flagship Approving. Thoughtful and silent, Yoda listened attentively to Mace Windu's report. ...

"A special clone squad infiltrated the arena, collected all the bodies of the Jedi and brought them aboard the cruiser. The death of Magister Trebor has been confirmed," Windu's stony face showed no emotion. "We screwed up. If not for the timely help of the clone army, hardly anyone would have left this arena alive. Magisters, knights, Padawans... almost two hundred Jedi died," The magister did not give vent to his feelings for a moment.

"How are Kenobi and Skywalker?" Ki Adi Mundi asked. "I heard they suffered a lot at the hands of Count Dooku."

"Their pride suffered more than they did. Skywalker will need a prosthetic arm," Shaak Ti replied.

"My former padawan has become strong. I felt the dark side of the Force in him," Yoda said, closing his eyes.

Turning her gaze to Yoda, Shaak Ti asked:

"There's one Jedi I'm interested in. He survived the fight in the arena, but was seriously injured. Mikore Vict. To my shame, I hadn't seen him before."

"Hmm," Yoda thought about it. "This is a young Jedi from the Balance Corps. A disciple of the knight of Nhon. What's your interest in, mm?"

"He's not very strong, but somehow he attracted me. Interested."

Magister Yoda was silent for a while, immersed in meditation.

"He walked along the edge of life. Doubts torment him."

"Just like all of us now," Shaak Ti bowed her head.

* * *

I woke up about two hours before the ships came out of hyper. My wounds were back to normal, but I wasn't going to take off my bandages yet. From sin.

After thinking about yesterday's events with a fresh mind, I finally approved the action plan.

The first point in it was to find something... to devour. And what do you want, I haven't eaten or drunk anything for almost a day.

I slowly got up from my bunk. I was a little shaky, but nothing, I won't fall apart. Looking at Skywalker, who was snuffling in his sleep, he mentally asked for his forgiveness three times. You will never see Ahsoka Tano as a padawan, Skywalker. I'll keep this shot for myself. Having such a student, the Chosen One, although he taught her something, did not reveal her potential, in my opinion, and then completely missed her.

Having found out the way to the dining room from the nearest clone, he slowly hobbled along the wall in the indicated direction. Still, this "Endorser" is a hefty piece of crap — a kind of wedge seven hundred by four hundred meters. Sixteen thousand troops fit, after all. By the time I got to the canteen, at least twenty minutes had passed.

The room was full of people. That is, clones. Standing in a small queue, I received a tray with a snack and headed to the nearest empty seat. As I sat down, I felt the gaze of one of the clones on me.

I was surprised to realize that I recognized him. Well, of course, they all look the same, but somehow I could tell them apart. Another greeting from the Force, no other way.

"Hello, Lieutenant."

"Sir," he nodded, and after a short pause, asked: "And how did you recognize me?"

There was surprise in his voice. Some of the clones were listening to our conversation.

"I remember you, Lieutenant. We went into battle together."

"But how did you manage? We're all the same."

"No, Lieutenant. You are different. I'm telling you this as a Jedi," Then I started eating.

Throwing in a multicolored mess from a tray (I don't even want to know what it's made of), I mentally scrolled through the plan of action.

As I recall, the main clone forces are now arriving on Coruscant. From there, after Chancellor Palpatine approves the Jedi to the rank of generals, they will travel to all corners of the galaxy in a couple of days. Well, theoretically. Surely they won't wait for the KNS to come to its senses and strike at completely uncovered borders?

Although I don't particularly like Palpatine as a Sith, he was pretty good as a future Emperor. It's like with Stalin: he seems to have led repressions and won the Great War — you can dislike him, but you can't disrespect him.

If it hadn't been for the extraordinary powers Palpatine had clawed out of the Senate (I can't believe he managed to pull it off, apparently it cost a lot of money and nerves), the senators would have sat in their hutt speakership until the very moment when the battle droids would have stormed into the Senate building.

If I remember the plot of the animated series correctly and if it even slightly coincides with reality, then the first skirmishes and attacks will begin about three days after the battle of Geonosis, and by the end of the month the war will be raging across the Galaxy. That means I won't have much time. There's a maximum of seventy-two hours for everything. It's sparse.

First of all, you need to visit the Archives, if not look there, then at least download some information on the wars of antiquity. But how else? I'm a strategist and tactician, like a wolfhound from a toy terrier, and there's nothing like academies around, even in my recipient's memory. And so at least you can learn something from real examples. I hope...

Then you need to find Yunling Tano, and make her your padawan. I think she won't refuse. As far as I remember, she's almost fourteen now, although padawans are usually dismantled by the age of thirteen, but because of her bad temper and short temper, everyone somehow avoided her. That's why she was nervous. She should fall for my offer.

Oh, you shouldn't have done that, gentlemen of the Jedi, oh, you shouldn't. She has a huge talent. And I just want to try to keep her alive. Yes, and actually, she will help me in the same way. There's no guarantee that I won't run into Grievous or Ventress or some other dark acolyte during the war. And Ahsoka, at least, can compete with them in the art of swordsmanship. Well, potentially... someday. Although even now, I think she can show a couple of tricks, it seems that she met Ventress for the first time right after the Temple and survived.

* * *

The ships are finally out of hyper. Coruscant lies below us.

Well, what can I say. You have to see that. Coruscant is the capital of the Galactic Republic.

A planet is a city with a population exceeding one trillion inhabitants. A city that has been the political center of the galaxy for thousands of years. Looking at the view from the portholes, I realized only now that my life had changed dramatically. Well, fate, I accept your challenge.

* * *

Shortly after our arrival, we, that is, the Jedi and Senator Amidala, boarded a shuttle and went to the Jedi Temple....

I. Part One. Chapter 3.

Do you want to make God laugh?

Tell him about your plans.

(national).

* * *

The shuttle, accompanied by four gunboats, landed on one of the landing pads in front of the Jedi Temple. During the flight, I sat quietly in my chair and did not shine. From sin. And, actually, no one cared about me. Yoda and Windu were silent, Amidala was whispering with Anakin, Obi-Wan was dozing, or meditating. The other Jedi were also busy with their own affairs, trying not to show their concern.

Well, what can I say?.. Yeah. They know how to build here. With a flourish. I don't remember who took care of this Temple here, but he was clearly not limited in funds. Yes, the area in front of the Temple is so large that it can easily accommodate about six "Approving" people. And the Temple itself occupies an area of about ten square kilometers. Its four-kilometer spires alone are worth something.

The magisters went about their business decorously. They were joined by some of the Temple's mentors and teachers, probably those who had been admitted to the Order's politics. Skywalker, along with Obi-Wan, sent his feet to the medical wing, clearly in a hurry to get a prosthetic. Here it's a matter of a couple of hours. Amidala will most likely go to the Senate (naturally, changing her outfit and powdering her nose — where without it). As far as I remember, Padme, accompanied by Anakin, will leave on a yacht to Naboo, where they will secretly get married. Conspirators, damn it.

All in all, I was left alone on the landing pad. No one came out to meet us, the escort clones with the transport left for their places of deployment, the summer sun was hot on top of my head and peace and grace settled around me, as if nothing had happened. I chuckled. You don't know the latest news yet.

* * *

As I walked through the Jedi Temple, images of this body's past, which has now become mine, flashed through my head like a kaleidoscope: here I enter the temple for the first time; together with other Younglings, I listen to a teacher telling about the history of the Jedi Order; for the first time I pick up a lightsaber — a training sword, true, but still; This is my first time fighting a mock battle; I'm discussing with my friends what kind of sword I want to assemble. Yes. A lot of memories are connected with this place. Unsurprisingly, many Jedi consider it their home.

To begin with, I directed my steps to the technical and economic department, colloquially referred to as the warehouse. I had to get my hands on some useful household items before the whole Order took care of it and there was a choice, besides, it was worth updating the wardrobe. I had no problems identifying the road — my memory helpfully pointed the way I needed. Slowly (let the wounds heal properly, and it's kind of inconvenient to run around here) walking down the corridor, he silently bowed to the Jedi he met. They nodded automatically and noticed my bandaged carcass. Some even stopped to watch me go.